


Memories of Summer

by Tabi



Category: Kiss x Kiss: Seirei Gakuen
Genre: Cheating, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-08-25
Updated: 2008-08-25
Packaged: 2017-10-21 15:10:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/226576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tabi/pseuds/Tabi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summer approaches and time passes; graduation is imminent, but some things will always stay the same.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Memories of Summer

Outside, the relentless sunlight spoke of the promise of summer, the oncoming storm of the third-year students graduating, heady days spent outdoors as the days ticked down to the holiday. Somewhere outside, lessons still progressed, but with that certain sense of expectation. The endless blue sky beckoned from windows outside, the cloudless wide expanse seeming unfathomable from inside a classroom. Students would sit by the window and gaze heavenward and turn back to the board at the instruction of their teacher, the staff knowing as well as the pupils how difficult it was to concentrate in this glorious weather. Inside seemed too dark and felt too stifling. The outdoors, dazzling as it was, became a potent desire.

The old school building, sat behind the main school building, didn't receive as much sunlight. The light shone in but didn't feel as warm. Dust motes danced between the shafts of light. Dark rooms felt colder. The library fell on the lower level of the building and held an atmosphere all of its own, silent and still, like the very act of opening the door to walk into the room was disturbing something. All of the older books of the school, the private collection that only the Student Council could access and manage. A layer of dust between paper and fingertip, the way this one room felt far more removed from the day-to-day school life than even the Student Council building itself did.

Makoto grabbed at the inner metal scaffold of the bookshelf as Yoshikuni fucked him harshly against it. In the cloying silence of the room around them, he knew that his own sounds felt all too loud. The gasps he tried to hold but failed, the way the bookshelf shook, the embarrassing sounds that Yoshikuni's body made as it rang impact against his own. His tongue caught around the word _senpai_ but further urge rendered that useless. Hands gripped tightly around his hips and forced deeper, harder. Makoto pressed his face against the top of dusty books and felt enveloped by but distant from Yoshikuni's feelings, such as they were.

 _I'm sorry, Ichii-kun._

Yoshikuni ran his hand up along Makoto's spine, threaded his fingers in Makoto's hair, held it tight. He seemed so receptive to this sort of behaviour; staring off to the side and caught in his own haphazard train of thought, Makoto's cheeks were flushed and his movements harried as he lay relentlessly thrust against the bookshelf. Yoshikuni ran his other hand along Makoto's hip and the crease of his leg, considering for a moment before merely using this as a handhold to draw him closer. The younger boy's erection strained against still air and his moans became deeper and his sighs breathless. Yoshikuni kept that hand in his hair. ( _Isn't this what love is, Aihara?_ )

So many emotions seemed tangled up in that boy's mind, but Yoshikuni watched him from behind as their private tryst continued and couldn't help a smirk to consider this. Makoto's feelings for Ichii. That pure love. The way Makoto seemed to warm and soften for talking of his beloved. The small moments. Promises made. _What's that got to do with this?_

 _That's nothing to do with this._

Makoto often worried about his Ichii-kun. About his welfare and wellbeing, about his whereabouts, about his behaviour. He confided his worry to Wada-senpai and _this_ was where it led. (Yoshikuni let go of Makoto's hair and dropped his hand down to Makoto's shoulder, pulling him upright and close and pressing him tight against the bookcase. Yoshikuni reached for the metal bar himself, his hand pressed near where Makoto held. That was just coincidence; he made no move to hold Makoto's hand.)

That innocence on the edge of summer, Yoshikuni wanted to fuck it out of him. _That kind of thing doesn't exist._ He held no doubt that Makoto would leave the Student Council building and smile at his Ichii-kun as if nothing had ever happened but it _had_ happened, oh, it _had_. Maybe Ichii would never know, but that was alright, because Makoto would know. Makoto would know and Yoshikuni would know and Yoshikuni knew he'd won, because he didn't care. Because Makoto wasn't Takumu. Because nobody else was Takumu. Because even Takumu didn't behave like Takumu anymore.

Makoto worried about Ichii, worried about his feelings for Ichii. About the depth of those feelings. Did he feel too much or not enough? Yoshikuni would feign interest and like that, had drawn him in. Maybe, maybe. How much was too much? (Takumu.) How much was not enough? (Takumu.)

Ichii was a nice boy. There wasn't anything to worry about. That didn't stop Makoto worrying and that didn't stop Yoshikuni's own attentions. That idle interest. Here was a boy who loved, who loved so much, who loved near-unconditionally. Yoshikuni would consider it in the quiet moments and ponder his motivations. Did he care about Makoto that much? No, if he cared about the boy at all then they wouldn't be in this situation to begin with. Was it perhaps an attempt to destroy those sweet feelings? Perhaps. It felt sickening that anybody else should feel like that. Was it an attempt to get closer to those feelings?

(Maybe.)

(Yoshikuni didn't like to consider that thought too long. It hurt too keenly.)

It seemed like Makoto's feelings were unbreakable and the more he thought on that fact, the more Yoshikuni wished to hurt him. Makoto didn't mind this, Makoto had an endless capacity to be hurt. When he'd smile up at Yoshikuni with those hazy eyes, _hurt me, senpai._ Who could resist a request from somebody so innocent? If Makoto gave the excuse then Yoshikuni didn't need a reason.

Summer felt like both an end and a beginning. To those third-year students leaving, it was the end of their time at Seirei. To Yoshikuni, the end of his time as the leader of the Student Council. University would be the new beginning, but that felt a lifetime away. He left Makoto still clinging to the bookcase. Summer would be his beginning, wouldn't it? The new leader of the Student Council. Things began and things ended, but that circle still continued. Part of Yoshikuni hoped that Makoto would be able to carry things on in the old tradition, but the tired part of Yoshikuni knew that he didn't care. Makoto would rule in his own way. By the time it came to that, Yoshikuni knew he'd be far away in another place, caring about different things.

(He stopped by the library doorway, still looking in Makoto's direction.)

( _Will I stop caring about you?_ )

( _Do I care about you to begin with?_ )

If he did or if he didn't, Yoshikuni knew any feeling like that superfluous. Makoto had Ichii and they had their own self-contained world of coupledom, a world that didn't include anybody else, let alone Yoshikuni. He knew that both his weapon and his weakness.

Yoshikuni would leave Seirei. Makoto and Ichii would go back to their day-to-day lives. These secret activities no doubt lay some shaken foundation, but it wouldn't break what _they_ had. They had that strength, didn't they? That kind of strength that came from unity. Yoshikuni saw that and felt desperately weak. Saw Takumu and felt weaker. Knew he'd be leaving while Takumu was left behind, alongside Moritaka.

 _No, don't think about it. It's not your business anymore. He's not your business anymore._

(Everything seemed so untidy, now.)


End file.
